"Them critters won't come to a stop till they've reached the river," laughed Jim, his face lighting up with joy. "Reckon they'll run till they've come back to that 'ere Jules Lapon of theirs. Steve, reckon you've jest saved us." He stepped over to the young trapper and gripped him by the hand. "It war your idea agin what brought us through," he said, "and it air you as'll lead us out of this country. Boys, you've heard tell of our trip up to Albany, and of how young Steve got on to the idea of them boats and reeds. Waal, this here notion of an ambush air his. Ain't he fit ter lead us?" There was a shout of approval. "He air all that," shouted Pete. "Hawk has made his name, and air real keen and 'cute. Reckon I don't want no better leader, no more do any of the others." "Then, cap'n, you'll take on the command as before," said Jim easily. "We air out of the muss with them 'ere beggars. What air we to do now?" "Push on as fast as we are able," was our hero's answer, when he had recovered from his embarrassment. "We will march with scouts out behind and in front and on either side. I am hoping to reach the mountains in four days." The party pressed on after those in advance, and in due time came up with them. And thus, taking the utmost precaution against attack from the Indians, they marched through the forest in the direction of the Alleghany mountains. Now and again they came upon an open space, where the blackened logs spoke of a settlement which had been fired. And often enough there were signs of the struggle which had taken place. The bodies of murdered colonists lay among the grass, while such relics of the former inhabitants as a tiny shoe, a rag doll, or a wooden horse, caught the eyes of the men of the party and caused them to grind their teeth and clench their fists. Men swore into their beards, and in low tones vowed that they would repay the authors of these massacres. And so in time they came to the mountains, climbed the long and weary foot hills, and at length struggled to the top, still surrounded by the ever-present forest. "We ain't far from white folks, cap'n," said Jim as the party began to descend the far slopes. "Pete reports as he's dropped on fresh fires, where the embers air quite warm; and there's been a hul lot of men about stampin' the ground with hard-soled boots." "Reckon there's men up there," suddenly exclaimed one of the trappers, pointing to a high peak distinguishable above the forest trees. "They've been watchin' us, and the sooner we let 'em know who we air the better it'll be. They might be shootin' into us." Steve at once sent off a couple of the backwoodsmen to speak to the strangers, and in a little while his messengers came back with four trappers similar to themselves. They were hardy-looking men, bearded and bronzed, and dressed in the customary hunting shirt and leggings.